1. education
2. school

Why
New Teachers
Leave …
… and Why
New Teachers
Stay
By Leslie Baldacci
By Susan Moore Johnson and
The Project on the Next Generation of Teachers
M
E
y classroom was just one deck chair on the
Titanic. The kids ran wild. They swore, fought,
refused to work. At assemblies they booed the
principal. The only punishment was suspension, and that
wasn’t so terrible. As one of my students, Cortez, put it, “At
least it’s better than having to come up here.”
This was seventh and eighth grade in a poverty-level, urban
school on the South Side of Chicago. Our classes were bursting at the seams with 35, 36, and 37 kids apiece. Tough kids,
many of them raising themselves in tough circumstances.
There was barely room to walk around the classrooms for all
the desks. When the kids were in the room, there was no
room left. The noise and heat levels were like a steel mill.
I understand the teacher shortage and why one-third of
new teachers quit after three years and nearly half bail out
after five years. I believe my experience was more typical
than extraordinary.
What was not typical about my experience was my background. As a newspaperwoman for 25 years, I had reported
on Chicago’s education crises long before the city’s “school
reform” effort started in the late 1980s. By 1999, Chicago’s
schools had improved their finances, halted a disastrous
cycle of teacher strikes, fixed crumbling buildings, and put
up new ones. Student test scores were beginning to improve.
Yet, Mayor Daley worried about sustaining the momentum.
He asked, “How do you know that we set the foundation
and it’s not going to fall back?”
(Continued on page 10)
8 AMERICAN EDUCATOR
sther spent nine years as an engineer designing flight
simulators for Navy pilots before she considered teaching. She loved her job for its intellectual challenge, the
collegial nature of her workplace, and the variety of tasks and
responsibilities it offered. But she resigned when her first child
was born because she did not think the demands of the job
were compatible with raising a family. Her substantial salary
had allowed Esther and her husband to build savings that
would support them for several years on a single wage. However, after six years, their savings were low, prompting Esther to
decide to work part-time as a substitute teacher in her children’s school where she already served as a volunteer.
Gradually, Esther began to think about becoming a teacher.
People had always said that she was good at explaining things,
and she had enjoyed her work as a substitute. Also, teaching
would make it possible for her to be home with her children
after school and during vacations. But the decision was not
easy. A beginning teacher’s salary would be at least $30,000 less
than she could earn if she returned to work as an engineer.
Nonetheless, Esther began to investigate education
programs that would lead to a teaching license. Then, in
spring 1999, the Massachusetts Department of Education announced the Massachusetts Signing Bonus Program (MSBP),
which offered outstanding candidates $20,000 to participate
in an intensive summer training institute and then teach in
the state’s public schools for at least four years. Massachusetts
legislators intended the program to recruit talented individuals
who traditionally would not have considered teaching, particularly in high-need subject areas, such as math, science, or
SUMMER 2006
special education, and in schools serving low-income populations (Fowler, 2001, 2003).
Esther found the bonus and its selectivity appealing, but she
was most attracted by the fast-track alternative preparation
program that state officials created to move bonus recipients
quickly into the classroom. A seven-week institute, which
included student teaching in a summer school, would enable Esther to have her own classroom of students by
September. Given the length and expense of traditional
teacher education programs, she found this very attractive and applied. She recalled, “It got me in at
least a full year, if not more, earlier than I would have
[entered].”
Soon after Esther learned that she had received
the bonus, she was encouraged to apply for a job
working on the space shuttle, a job she would have
pursued if a suitable job had been available for
her husband nearby. But this did not work out,
so Esther completed the summer institute for
MSBP teachers, and accepted a position
teaching ninth-grade math in an urban,
vocational high school. Given the shortage of mathematics and science teachers, particularly in urban areas, Esther
was just the sort of skilled, unconventional candidate Massachusetts
reformers had hoped to recruit.
With idealism and enthusiasm, she hoped to draw
on her experience as an engineer to help her students
enjoy learning math.
But after her first year,
Esther left for a more
affluent school in the
suburbs. What happened? And what happens
across the nation to the 50
percent of new teachers
who quit teaching all
together within five years?
A
s Esther and her counterparts began teaching in
1999, public educators
and policymakers across the country were preparing in earnest for a
predicted teacher shortage. At the
start of the new century, about 30
percent—approximately one million—of the nation’s public school
teachers were over 50 years old
(NCES, 2002) and expected to retire by 2010. At the same time, increasing birth and immigration
(Continued on page 13)
Why New Teachers Leave
(Continued from page 8)
I believed the answer lay in the front-line troops, teachers.
So, after being accepted to the alternative certification program called Teachers For Chicago, I turned in my press credentials to become a teacher. The program would pay for my
master’s degree, minimize the requirements for entering graduate school, and put me in a classroom immediately as a
teacher, with a mentor looking over my shoulder and working
with me daily. I would earn $24,000 a year.
* * *
My school had two buildings—a beautiful old yellow brick
school, built like a fortress in 1925, and another from the
1970s, a poured-concrete prefab shell three stories high. Built
as a temporary solution to overcrowding, it had long ago
outlived its intended lifespan. Over time, the windows had
become a cloudy opaque, impossible to see in or out.
I walked in a side door, past a security guard who did
not question me, and introduced myself to the ladies in
the office as “the new Teachers For Chicago intern.”
“Hello!” they said, friendly and smiling.
They paged the principal, who came right away and
took me into his office to chat. He looked weary. His eyes were
bloodshot. Above his desk, tufts of pink insulation poked
through a hole where ceiling tiles were missing. Other tiles
were water-stained.
When I asked the principal for copies of the books I’d be
using when school started in eight weeks, he sighed heavily
and folded his hands on his desk. It wasn’t that simple, he said.
He wasn’t sure what grade I’d be teaching. He was still working
on his organizational lineup for fall. He assured me that my
Teachers For Chicago mentor would be in touch and help me
with the details of getting set up.
In late July, when I stopped by the school again, the principal emerged from behind closed doors to level his bloodshot
eyes at me and tell me he still wasn’t sure what grade I was
going to get, but it would definitely be fifth grade or higher.
Two more teachers had quit, I later learned, and he had requested four additional Teachers For Chicago interns to fill the
many empty spots on his organizational chart. The school’s
first experience with the nine-year-old internship program
would place interns in eight of his classrooms. The poor man
looked beleaguered. Running a school with 900 kids, 89 percent from poverty-level homes, had to be tough. Student
achievement was low: At third grade, 86 percent of the student
body was below grade level standards in reading and 79 percent was below grade level in math. On top of that, experienced teachers were bailing out right and left.
It was precisely the setting I wanted. The optimist in me, by
virtue of a scant six weeks of education training, thought,
Leslie Baldacci was a teacher in the Chicago public schools from
the fall of 1999 to the spring of 2005. She is now a reporter for the
Chicago Sun-Times; before teaching, she was a newspaperwoman
for 25 years. This article is excerpted with permission from Inside
Mrs. B’s Classroom: Courage, Hope, and Learning on
Chicago’s South Side, New York, McGraw-Hill, 2004.
10 AMERICAN EDUCATOR
Where was my backup? What were
the consequences? Everyone I sent to
the office bounced right back in.
There was no detention.
“What if this turns out to be a turning point for the school?
What if all these new people coming in with their energy and
ideas make a difference?”
“I’m counting on you,” he told me. I pledged my allegiance
with a handshake.
“Put me where you need me,” I told him. I sent up a simple
prayer, “Thy will be done.”
About two weeks before school started I finally heard from
my mentor; I would be teaching seventh grade in Room 118.
Room 118 was painted seafoam green, which didn’t look
nearly as putrid with the dark woodwork as the pink in the library across the hall. The ceilings were so high the room
echoed. My desk had four drawers; my chair was broken. The
cupboards were full of junk I would never use, coated with
years of dust. There were 40 desks, which seemed excessive.
All the maps and the AV screen were pulled down. What was
behind them? I clomped and creaked over the wood floors to
the far corner of the room and tried to roll up the AV screen. A
huge chunk of blackboard, ancient, heavy slate, jagged and
lethal, lunged forward behind the screen, threatening to slash
right through it. Behind the slate was exposed brick, internal
walls, vintage 1925. Behind the maps were unsightly chalk
boards ruined by years of wear and subsequent efforts to cover
them with contact paper and other sticky stuff. What a mess.
* * *
I had never seen kids act like that in a classroom with an
adult present. Throughout the first week, they talked incessantly. They shouted to be heard over the talking. They didn’t
do their work. They got up out of their seats without permission and wandered around, touching and bothering each
other on their way. They shouted out questions and comments, including, “This is stupid.” Any little ripple set off a
chain reaction. Someone passed gas and everyone leapt from
his seat fanning the air and jumping around. They threw
SUMMER 2006
things. They hit. I had broken up two fist fights already. They
yelled out the window to their gang-banger friends and relatives, who gathered outside at dismissal time. They swore like
sailors. I felt like the old woman who lived in the shoe; I had
so many children I didn’t know what to do. In addition to the
35 students in my homeroom, more than 100 other students,
seventh- and eighth-graders, called me their English teacher.
And where was my backup? What were the consequences?
Everyone I sent to the office bounced right back in. There was
no detention. There had been no suspensions, even for fighting. I was beginning to think “alternative” schools for poorly
behaved students were a myth made up by the board of education. Was my school an alternative school and no one told me
about it?
All good questions, but ones I could not resolve. These were
issues I needed to discuss with an experienced hand, but I had
not seen much of my mentor. I felt like a prisoner in solitary
confinement, thrown into a cell and forgotten. I was lucky to
get to the bathroom in the course of a day.
* * *
A five-week reorganization brought new levels of angst. I had
never heard of such a thing. My children had always had the
same teacher from the first day of school to the last. There were
no switcheroos unless someone had a baby or got sick. But apparently a principal has a right to shake things up through the
fifth week of school. He can move teachers around and finetune the operation if things aren’t going well. This, it seems, is
an annual event at some schools.
That is how my colleague Astrid got switched from seventh-grade social studies to a sixth-grade, self-contained classroom and how Mr. Diaz joined the seventh- and eighth-grade
team. Jennifer, an intern with a third-grade class, got switched
to second grade.
Astrid was devastated at leaving her seventh-graders and
starting over with a sixth-grade class. New faces, new books,
new routines. And she had to teach every subject! Her seventhgraders gave her a farewell party. They took a collection and
raised $13.00. Donna went to Sam’s Club and bought a cake
decorated with “Movin’ On Up!” Astrid’s new classroom was
on the second floor.
When one intern explained to her third-graders that they
were getting a new teacher, a student asked, “Why are you giving us up?” The enormity of the question caused the first-year
teacher to lose her composure. She started to cry. Then the
kids all started bawling. They spent the rest of the day watching a video. “We couldn’t do anything else,” she said. “We
were wrecked.”
Besides disrupting children’s classroom situations, no one
seemed to have given any thought to which children should or
shouldn’t be together. Most of the kids had been together since
they were tiny. They had history together. Yet no teachers
seemed to have been asked for insight on the group dynamic.
At my children’s public school, teachers met at the end of the
school year to make their lists with an eye toward who worked
well with whom and who needed to be separated.
Then again, at a school like mine with a 40 percent mobility rate, who knew who would be back? Year to year, five weeks
into the year, changes came.
SUMMER 2006
The seventh and eighth grades would
no longer be departmentalized. No
more changing classes. Each of us
would teach all subjects to our homerooms. Starting that day.
* * *
My students were ignorant of geography. They didn’t know
the states; they had vague ideas of continents. I decided to
craft a research project around travel so they’d get some geography along with language arts. The project was planning their
dream trip. I went to a couple of travel agents and grabbed
every glossy brochure I could get my hands on.
They had to decide where they wanted to go and how far it
was from Chicago. They had to determine the cost, pack a
suitcase, and write an itinerary of sightseeing and other activities specific to their destination. They had to find out the currency, the language, what different foods they might eat, and
what were good souvenirs to buy. They had to convert currency and account for time zones.
Destinations included Mexico, Jamaica, Africa, Wyoming,
Florida, California, and England. The dream trip project, with
its cross-curricular integrations of math and social studies,
came in handy when, two days before first-quarter report card
pick-up, our principal informed Mr. Diaz and me that our
worst fear had been realized: The seventh and eighth grades
would no longer be departmentalized. No more changing
classes. Each of us would teach all subjects to our homerooms.
Starting that day.
Apparently, he had decided this some weeks before. He had
informed the eighth-grade teachers the week before. “I should
have told you, too. My fault. Apologies,” he said curtly before
turning on his heel and walking away.
We were in shock. Suddenly, we were on the hook for lesson
plans in all subjects, coming up to speed on the curriculum,
and teaching the lessons. But that was only a week-by-week crisis. The deeper crisis was whether or not we were up to the task
of teaching our students in all subjects. Seventh-grade standardized test scores determine a child’s high school options. What if
my ineptitude kept someone from getting into an accelerated
AMERICAN FEDERATION OF TEACHERS 11
* * *
Near the end of the school year, the principal informed me
that I would be teaching second grade the following year. I assured him I would do my best.
I walked back to my classroom with conflicting emotions.
We had filled out wish lists and I had asked for seventh grade
again, feeling I could do better now that I knew the pitfalls. My
second choice was sixth grade, my third choice fourth. Being
sent to second grade, clearly not what I desired, looked like a
punishment. Had I been such a dismal failure with my seventhgraders, self-contained in the largest classroom in the school
with all of our personalities and problems? Surely someone else
would have been a better teacher for them than I was. Was it
criminal to leave them with me all year? Would I be equally as
dismal with second-graders? My eyes were watery with tears.
* * *
While the whole group of interns was exhausted, as the old12 AMERICAN EDUCATOR
est I may have been feeling it more than the others. And the
fatigue was not just physical. It was mental as well. I was
drained more every day by the limits of poverty, the unprofessional manner in which our school was run, the criticism, the
nitpicking, the zero encouragement or respect. No one ever
told you when you did a good job. It was like no other job situation I had ever experienced.
Toward the end of my second year of teaching, I did a mental count of the teacher interns who had come through the
doors and who had left. By my tally, 16 interns came on board
in my two years. All but five left in one circumstance or another. I had to find a more supportive school where I was
viewed as competent and dedicated.
I made only one effort to find another job. I wrote to a
principal who had come up to me after a speech I gave to the
Annenberg Foundation a year before, a woman with a short
blond Afro and fantastic jewelry who told me, “When you’re
done with your internship, call me. I like your attitude.” Her
school was known throughout the city as an exciting school
that works for kids.
She called me soon after she received my letter to set up an
interview. When I returned her call at 5:40 P.M., she answered
the office phone herself. I was not surprised. By then, I understood the extraordinary dedication it took to be a strong
school leader.
I set my sights on this school and this leader.
With bags under my eyes, wearing a ridiculous flowered
dress and a jean jacket, I went for my interview at the new
school. The day happened to be the day of the annual school
carnival. I arrived as students were being dismissed. I couldn’t
believe how many children’s names the principal knew. As the
students left the building, they were walking, not running.
Most were quiet, but if they were talking, it was in normal
conversational tones, not screaming. At least 20 kids said to
their principal as they left, “Thanks for the carnival.”
The principal, vice principal, and I talked for nearly two
hours. About teaching children. About testing. About assessment. About curriculum integration. About teams of teachers
working collaboratively. The school, with corridors that looked
like a museum of African art, had three bands, sports teams,
afterschool dance and art programs, an entrepreneurship initiative and video club and book clubs, among other programs.
We talked about a school paper and what they would like to
see on a fifth-grade reading list.
I realized that I was poised on the brink of an excellent opportunity to see in action the kind of leadership that made this
school stand out among 700 elementary schools in our city. I
very much wanted to be part of an organization working hard,
plowing forward. The faculty was dedicated, innovative,
bright. Initiative was applauded. Everyone wore many hats.
There were responsibilities to serve on committees, to formulate policies and philosophies. It was a unique team, constantly
evolving, positive.
“I’m going to do something strange and forgo the secret
conference with the vice principal and listen to my heart,” the
principal said. “I’m going to offer you the job right now.”
I accepted the position on the spot, with sincere gratitude
l
and humility.
SUMMER 2006
Why New Teachers Stay
(Continued from page 9)
rates and, in some states, class-size reductions further expanded the need for new teachers. Experts projected that public schools would have to hire 2.2 million teachers during the
first decade of the new century (Hussar, 1999).
This enormous hiring challenge is exacerbated by the very
high turnover rates of new teachers. Nationally, approximately
15 percent of new teachers leave teaching within the first year,
30 percent within three years, and 40 to 50 percent within five
years (Ingersoll, 2002; Smith and Ingersoll, 2003). To make
matters worse, each year, 15 percent of new teachers change
schools (Smith and Ingersoll, 2003).
The cost of this turnover is staggering: The Alliance for Excellent Education (2005) estimates the cost of teachers leaving
their schools to be $4.9 billion per year. Of course, the greatest
cost is not so easily quantified; it’s the price paid in student
learning. Researchers have consistently found that first-year
teachers are dramatically less effective than their more experienced colleagues (Hanushek et al., 2004).
How can the constant turnover be reduced so our classrooms can be stably staffed? We can only answer the question
by understanding the motivations, priorities, and experiences
of the next generation of teachers. To do just that, in 1999, we
began a four-year study of 50 first- and second-year Massachusetts teachers, including Esther,* who had entered teaching via
various paths: traditional teacher education programs, the
Massachusetts Signing Bonus Program, and charter schools
(which, at that time, could hire teachers without state licenses).
As we selected participants, we ensured that our sample included variation by race, gender, ethnicity, and career stage.
In our interviews and follow-up surveys, we sought to understand why they had chosen to teach, how they prepared,
what their career plans were, what they encountered in their
jobs, and why they ultimately chose to stay in their schools,
switch schools, or leave the profession altogether.** In a nutshell, what we found was this: This next generation of teachers
approaches teaching somewhat tentatively; they will only stay
in the classroom if they feel successful and they are most likely
to feel successful if they’ve received support in their jobs—specific, ongoing help from colleagues, administrators, and mentors—and been able to work in conditions that enable good
teaching.
In this article, we’ll look at three aspects of our research
Susan Moore Johnson is Carl H. Pforzheimer, Jr., Professor of
Teaching and Learning at Harvard University’s Graduate School
of Education and a former high-school teacher and administrator.
She directs The Project on the Next Generation of Teachers, a
multi-year, multi-study research project (online at www.gse.
harvard.edu/~ngt); Project researchers who contributed to this
article are Sarah E. Birkeland, Morgaen L. Donaldson, Susan M.
Kardos, David Kauffman, Edward Liu, and Heather G. Peske.
This article is adapted with permission from Finders and Keepers: Helping New Teachers Survive and Thrive in Our Schools,
San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2004, © John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
SUMMER 2006
The Generation Gap
60
50
Percentage
program or a better high school? I’d become comfortable with
language arts. This new responsibility was daunting.
When my graduate school advisor came to observe just a
few days later, she was so upset that she called for the mentor
and the principal. “This is a joke,” she informed them. She reminded the mentor that her job was to spend an hour each day
in each intern’s room, co-teaching and modeling for us how to
teach. The mentor replied that she was the “disciplinarian.”
“You’re the mentor,” my advisor told her. “If you can’t do
that job, maybe someone else should. And maybe if this school
can’t give these interns the support they need, Teachers For
Chicago doesn’t belong in this school.”
I prayed they wouldn’t pull us out. There were so many
things I had learned already but much I still needed to find
out. Why weren’t there any television sets or VCRs? Why were
there so few books in the library? Why didn’t the upper grades
get time in the computer lab? Were chronic, truly dangerous
kids ever sent to alternative schools?
The bottom line was, I couldn’t leave the class. The upset of
the reorganization made me realize how desperately they
needed continuity. There had to be some value in coming back
day after day, trying hard, doing my best, even if my best was
woefully inadequate. Those were the only terms under which I
could ask the same from them.
After my advisor left, the principal and mentor returned to
my room.
“Where’s your fire escape plan?” asked my mentor.
“Hanging right there, by the door,” I said, pointing to the
pink sheets. The children watched, rapt.
“Where’s your schedule?”
“Nichelle, please put up the map at the back of the room.
The schedule is behind it.”
“Where’s your grading scale?”
“Bulletin board, lower right corner.”
“Where’s your time distribution chart?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“You should have it posted in the classroom,” she said.
“Have it on my desk at eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”
They turned and left.
40
30
38
38
24
20
10
0
0-9
10-19
20+
Years of Teaching Experience
Source: National Education Association, Status of the American Public School Teacher, 2000-2001,
Table 6, “Years of Full-time Teaching Experience, 1961-2001.”
A large proportion of the teachers hired in the 1960s and 1970s
made teaching a lifelong career; subsequently, student enrollment declined in the 1980s. As a result, the profile of today’s
national teaching force is increasingly U-shaped, with one peak
of educators about to retire, another peak beginning to teach,
and a valley in between.
that bring us to this conclusion: First, we’ll consider the labor
context in which these new teachers find themselves—and
which makes them, like others in their generation, so much
more open to changing jobs. Second, we’ll look at the types of
problems that thwart new teachers’ classroom success, and
then return to Esther to discover why she didn’t feel successful
in her vocational high school. Finally, we’ll see that whether
or not new teachers stay is strongly shaped by the amount of
help they receive. Recognizing that success is possible, a sidebar (p. 20) looks at the case of Fred to understand how a
strong induction experience, combined with a strong professional, collegial environment, can help teachers succeed—and
in doing so, also lead them to stay a while.
I. The Next Generation
Is Open to Job-Switching
The next generation of teachers makes career decisions in a
labor context strikingly different from 40 years ago, and the
interests and options of today’s prospective teachers are unlike
those of any teachers who preceded them. Until the mid1960s, teaching was the primary career option for large numbers of well-educated women and people of color, for whom
other professions were formally or informally off limits. That is
no longer true. Individuals who consider teaching today have
many more career options than the retiring generation—many
of them with much higher salaries and better working conditions than teaching. In addition, today’s new teachers are encountering unprecedented demands: The public now expects
schools to teach all students so that they meet high standards—rich and poor, immigrant and native-born, white and
* Pseudonyms are used throughout this article to protect the teachers
who participated in our research.
**Although the focus of this article is our longitudinal study of 50 teachers, we have conducted many related studies, including a four-state survey of 486 randomly selected first- and second-year teachers that was
designed to generate broader, more generalizable findings.
AMERICAN FEDERATION OF TEACHERS 13
minority, special needs and mainstream—and to take on new
functions beyond the traditional scope of schools’ responsibility. Teachers bear the burden of society’s newer, higher expectations for schools (Hargreaves, 2003).
Let’s briefly examine three significant ways in which the
next generation of teachers differs from the retiring generation: the stage in their career in which they enter teaching, the
routes they take to the classroom, and the number of years
they expect to spend teaching (Peske, Liu, Johnson, Kauffman, and Kardos, 2001).
Entering Teaching at Different Career Stages
Many of today’s new teachers are entering teaching midcareer
(far more than ever before), most having worked for a substantial period of time in another field. In our carefully selected sample of 50 Massachusetts first- and second-year
teachers, 52 percent entered teaching as a first career, at an average age of 24, whereas 48 percent entered at midcareer, at
an average age of 36. Although the number of midcareer entrants in our sample may seem high, subsequent random samples of first- and second-year teachers in seven states revealed
that our sample was fairly representative; we found a range of
midcareer entrants from 28 percent in Michigan to 47 percent in California (Kardos, 2001, 2003; Kauffman, 2004;
Liu, 2001, 2003).
Many of the first-career entrants are similar to the retiring
generation in that they always wanted to teach and never seriously considered any other careers: “I feel like I always just
knew,” explained one. “It sounds corny, but I was born wanting
to teach,” echoed another. They believed that teaching would
be socially valuable and personally rewarding work, yet recognized that the work was neither high-paying nor high-status.
The 24 midcareer entrants in our study came to teaching
later, believing that it offered more meaningful work than did
their previous employment. As a group, these midcareer entrants brought with them a familiarity with large and small organizations, for-profit and non-profit enterprises, entrepreneurial and bureaucratic settings. Some had worked for multiple supervisors, whereas others had been supervisors themselves. Some had experienced well-defined, useful, and ongoing on-the-job training; some had devised such training for
other employees. Thus, midcareer entrants often enter their
new school expecting a workplace that was better equipped,
more flexible, and more committed to their success than the
one they found. They were often dismayed when they found
that their new workplaces were dreary or dilapidated, that they
had scant access to telephones or the time to use them, that
basic resources such as paper were in short supply, and that
they had to use precious time to do routine, clerical tasks.
Taking Multiple Routes to the Classroom
Thirty-two of the 50 new teachers we studied entered teaching by traditional routes, pursuing undergraduate and graduate programs that included at least one academic year of
coursework, supervised student teaching for six weeks to 10
months, and, ultimately, certification. In general, they appreciated that their programs offered valuable information about
14 AMERICAN EDUCATOR
In contrast to their veteran colleagues
who will retire from a lifelong
career in the classroom, many new
teachers in our sample approached
teaching tentatively, conditionally,
or as one of several careers
they expected to have.
room long-term. Even the first-career entrants, who 30 years
ago would probably have approached teaching as a long-term
endeavor, were surprisingly tentative about a career limited to
classroom teaching. In fact, only four of the 26 first-career entrants said that they planned to remain classroom teachers
until they retire. Likewise, even though they had fewer working years left, only six of the 24 midcareer teachers intended
to stay in the classroom full time for the rest of their careers.
Many of the teachers—11 first-careers and 13 midcareers—
stated explicitly that they did not intend to stay for the rest of
their careers. One respondent, a former software developer, explained, “I’m a career changer. I figured, Why not explore a
new field?” Another, a recent college graduate, planned to enroll in medical school after teaching for two years. He said, “I
knew I wanted to go to medical school. I knew I did not want
to go right after college, and so I decided, What can I do that
won’t pay too badly and that will make me feel like I’m doing
something interesting and important?” Though these teachers
made only a short-term commitment, they were not at all casual about what they hoped to achieve in the classroom. They
intended to pour themselves into the job, giving it all they
had, but only for a few years.
II. What New Teachers Want—
and Often Aren’t Getting
pedagogy and opportunities to practice their craft under the
supervision of an experienced veteran during the school year.
Eighteen teachers in our study entered through an alternate route—five via charter schools and 13 via the Massachusetts Signing Bonus Program (MSBP). The teachers who
went to work in charter schools completed no teacher preparation program. The MSBP participants completed a sevenweek, summer preparation program operated by the state, including a short stint of student teaching in summer school.
Nine of these 13 had entered the MSBP with no prior
teacher preparation; three others had previously completed
certification requirements in traditional master’s programs
before joining the program, and one had completed all but
the student teaching requirement in an undergraduate
teacher preparation program. In general, the nontraditional
entrants counted more on the value of innate teaching ability
and professional experience than on the content of education
courses or a student teaching experience. The alternative
route was particularly appealing for the midcareer entrants
who otherwise would have had to forego a year’s pay while
completing a traditional program.
Committing for a While, Not a Lifetime
In contrast to their veteran colleagues who will retire from a
lifelong career in the classroom, many new teachers in our
sample approached teaching tentatively, conditionally, or as
one of several careers they expected to have. Although some
expected to remain in the field of education long-term, surprisingly few envisioned remaining exclusively in the classSUMMER 2006
Given the career options and lack of long-term commitment
to teaching that characterize the next generation of teachers,
schools and districts that hope to hold on to new teachers will
have to pay close attention to what these teachers say they
want: support. The new teachers in our study described in
considerable detail the internal workings of their schools, explaining the ways in which those schools succeeded or failed
in supporting learning (of both the teachers and the students). Their accounts make it clear that the support they
seek isn’t just a matter of wanting their jobs to be easier—it’s a
matter of making their jobs doable, and giving them a chance
to experience the success with their students that is teaching’s
primary reward.
Threaded through the new teachers’ stories were accounts of
inattentive or abusive principals, inappropriate or unfair assignments, inadequate supplies, ad hoc approaches to discipline, insufficient time with other teachers, and insufficient
opportunities to grow—each of which we briefly discuss
below. New teachers who worked in schools lacking these basic
supports were demoralized and often felt ineffective with their
students. They typically were the ones who left teaching.
Problems with Principals
These new teachers’ accounts reinforce the finding of repeated
research studies that the principal is central in shaping how,
and how well, a school works (Murphy, 2002). Teachers we
studied spoke intently about how their principals related to
them personally and professionally. They wanted administrators to be present, positive, and actively engaged in the instructional life of the school. Often, the principals failed to
meet these teachers’ expectations. Most were said to succeed
in some things but fall short in others. A surprising number
SUMMER 2006
were, in these teachers’ views, ineffectual, demoralizing, or
even destructive.
Teachers frequently said that the principal was preoccupied
and did not make time for them. Carolyn, who worked in a
large, urban elementary school where 70 percent of the students qualified for free- or reduced-price lunch, found her
principal “a little gruff,” and said she was disappointed to see
her keep such a distance from the staff: “She has bulletins that
she sends out. It’s really her main form of communication with
us.” As a result, Carolyn explained, “there is a sense of the administration being higher and separate from the teachers.”
Carolyn looked to her principal for direction, but said that she
often took problems out of Carolyn’s hands with a brusque
“I’ll take care of it,” rather than recommending how she might
respond. Like other new teachers, Carolyn wanted to learn
from her principal: “So a lot of time, I’ll have to keep probing
her [by asking], ‘In another scenario, how would I handle
this…?’ or ‘What are the consequences [for the student] that
the school has for this?’”
Problems with Teaching Assignments
In the typical professional setting, it is common to give inexperienced staff less responsibility combined with fairly intensive
oversight by a veteran—but not in teaching. No teacher in our
study had a reduced teaching assignment. Bernie’s high school
load in the history department was typical: “I have two honors
classes and three of what they have labeled as ‘open’ classes [for
low-achieving students]. Open classes also have special ed
kids…. Five classes, five times a week: The kids have seven periods. I have one free period a day. Otherwise, I’m on hall
duty, or bathroom duty, or what have you.” Bernie, whose
time as a corporate lawyer had been billed by the minute, was
dismayed to find that his time as a teacher was used to “make
sure that nobody smokes in the boys’ room.”
Not only was Bernie’s assignment not reduced, but he, like
many in our study, actually had a more difficult assignment
than his more experienced colleagues. “I have the highest class
size of any open [lower track] class. All the other open classes
in the school, I found out this week, are all like 10 kids. Mine
are 30 and 25.” Moreover, Bernie had no classroom or desk to
call his own and moved from room-to-room during the day as
an itinerant instructor. Throughout the study, teachers described assignments that, although technically comparable to
those of their colleagues (the same number of students, the
same number of classes), were actually far more challenging.
Their loads included a preponderance of low-level classes,
grade-levels in which students would take the state exam, split
grades, or assignments that required traveling from classroomto-classroom or school-to-school.
Problems with Supplies and Equipment
There was wide variation in the equipment and supplies provided to the new teachers, with predictable differences between
urban and suburban schools (although some teachers in urban
schools said that they had all they needed). Like many who
came from other careers, Esther was stunned at how ill-
(Continued on page 18)
AMERICAN FEDERATION OF TEACHERS 15
Teachers transfer out of high-poverty,
low-support schools because of conditions …
not union transfer provisions
Teacher unions can support new teachers’
desire for assistance and professional growth—
while aiding teacher effectiveness
By F. Howard Nelson
By Susan Moore Johnson
and Morgaen L. Donaldson
Howard Nelson is a senior researcher
in the Office of the President at the
American Federation of Teachers.
His research on collective bargaining
and teacher transfers is online at
www.aft.org/topics/teacher-quality/
downloads/cb_handout.pdf.
16 AMERICAN EDUCATOR
14
Percentage
H
igh-poverty schools tend to
employ staff with less experience
than other schools. This could be a
source of great inequity. What causes it?
A group of policymakers and researchers have argued that the cause is
collectively bargained contracts that
give senior teachers greater transfer
rights. For example, the Hoover Institute’s Terry Moe (2006) asserts that
“hard evidence or no, there are compelling reasons for thinking that transfer rights should have profoundly negative effects on the schools.…
[T]ransfer rights give senior teachers
much more latitude in choosing
where to teach…. In districts with
transfer rules, then, disadvantaged
schools should find themselves burdened with even more inexperienced
teachers than they otherwise would.”
Likewise, Paul Hill and others at the
Center for Reinventing Public Education (2005) argue that, “Teacher preferences are usually honored according
to seniority, frequently backed up by
labor contracts. The most senior …
teachers very often receive their preference to be assigned to schools with the
fewest teaching challenges. The greenest teachers … are generally assigned
to schools that are struggling.”
But are these assumptions correct?
My research data provide a clear answer: No.
Using data from the 1999-2000
Schools and Staffing Survey and the
High Poverty, Urban Schools with Collective Bargaining Have
Lower Transfer Rates and Hire Fewer First-Year Teachers
12
10
8
G
13.0
10.1
8.4
6
5.7
4
2
0
Percentage of
teachers who
transfer
Extensive collective bargaining
companion 2000-2001 Teacher Follow-up Survey, I found that both
nationally and in urban areas, teachers
who work under a collectively bargained contract are less likely to transfer to another school than teachers
who do not have a collectively bargained contract. This is especially true
of teachers in high-poverty urban
schools: Just 8.4 percent of those in
states with extensive collective bargaining transferred to another school
in 2000-2001, compared to 13 percent of those in states without collective bargaining.
Of course, how many teachers are
transferring is not the only, or even the
most important, issue. The real question is this: Who fills the vacancy when
a teacher does transfer? Folks like Moe
and Hill have asserted that teachers always prefer to work in more affluent
schools and neighborhoods, and that
their seniority-based transfer rights enable them to do so. This is devastating
for high-poverty urban schools, they
argue, because such schools are then
stuck hiring (and soon thereafter losing) inexperienced teachers.
Once again, the data disagree.
I found that high-poverty schools
in states with extensive collective bar-
Percentage of
first-year teachers
hired
No collective bargaining
gaining are less likely to fill their vacancies with inexperienced teachers.
Among high-poverty urban schools, in
states with extensive collective bargaining just 5.7 percent of the teachers filling vacancies were inexperienced, compared to 10.1 percent in
states without collective bargaining.
The message from these data is
clear: Collective bargaining contracts
do not induce experienced teachers to
leave high poverty schools.
Why then do high-poverty schools
employ a larger number of new teachers? My data do not provide an answer. But the research conducted by
Susan Moore Johnson begins to paint
a picture that does. Teachers in highpoverty schools, in both districts with
and without collective bargaining,
face more difficult conditions and less
support than their counterparts in
more affluent schools. These teachers
are thus more likely to leave teaching
all together. And, they are more likely
than their counterparts to change
schools—or switch, like Esther in the
main article, to an entirely different
school district, where they can find a
school and conditions that enable
them to find teaching success.
(References on page 45)
SUMMER 2006
iven the mobility of workers in
today’s economy, as well as the
aspirations and options of new teachers, recruitment and retention of these
teachers may require the creation of
new teacher roles. In a survey of recent
college graduates, 70 percent felt that
teaching did not offer adequate
“opportunities for advancement,” but
their current jobs did (Farkas et al.,
2000). Similarly, research by Henke,
Chen, and Geis (2000) found that
about one-third of all new teachers
and 50 percent of new black teachers
wanted to move into school leadership
positions.
Further, in response to the influx of
new teachers and the growing concern
about their readiness and ultimate
retention, issues of induction and mentoring are moving center-stage. Across
the country, the quality of induction
and mentoring programs varies widely
(Feiman-Nemser, 2001). Yet recent
research has shown that when new
teachers take part in comprehensive
induction programs that include time
for collaboration and a mentor who
teaches the same subject, they are less
likely to leave the profession (Smith
and Ingersoll, 2004).
Unions and districts can work
together to create structures that help
support and retain the talented teachers
that our schools need. One longrunning effort to do this is in Toledo,
This sidebar is adapted with permission
from “The Effects of Collective Bargaining on Teacher Quality,” a chapter in
Collective Bargaining in Education:
Negotiating Change in Today’s
Schools, Jane Hannaway and Andrew J.
Rotherham, Eds. Cambridge, Mass.:
Harvard Education Press, 2006.
SUMMER 2006
Collective bargaining
could play a central role
in assuring teacher
quality and retention—
and put unions in the
enviable position of
providing their new
members the support
they desperately need.
where in 1981, the Toledo Federation
of Teachers and the Toledo school district jointly created, and adopted
through collective bargaining, a peer
assistance and review program in which
experienced teachers leave their classrooms for three years to mentor and
evaluate all teachers new to the district.
After one year of closely supervising
new teachers’ work and modeling
expert practice, the peer reviewers recommend to a joint labor-management
committee whether or not each new
teacher should be reemployed. The program, which received the Innovations
in American Government Award from
Harvard University’s John F. Kennedy
School of Government in 2001, has
been shown to yield higher retention
and dismissal rates than comparable
districts where administrators are the
sole evaluators.
Also in the 1980s, the Rochester
Teachers Association and the Rochester
school district created the Career in
Teaching (CIT) program, which differentiates teachers into four sub-groups:
interns, resident teachers, professional
teachers, and lead teachers. Lead teachers are released from the classroom
part-time to mentor interns (beginning
teachers) and coach veteran colleagues
who administrators identify as struggling. They also evaluate interns and
struggling veterans. In fact, interns
cannot move into the resident teacher
category without the lead teacher’s
approval. Once they receive tenure,
teachers attain “professional” status.
They may then apply to become lead
teachers, thereby qualifying for additional compensation and leadership
roles like those described. The CIT
receives favorable reviews from new
and experienced teachers in Rochester’s
public schools.
In 2002, the Minneapolis Public
Schools and the Minneapolis Federation of Teachers created the Achievement of Tenure Process for New Teachers. The program aims to simultaneously provide new teachers with the
assistance they need to teach successfully and assure that the tenure award
is made only to effective teachers.
Among the many supports provided to
new teachers are release time to observe
effective colleagues and various forms
of professional development.
T
oday, prospective and current
teachers entertain a range of career
options outside teaching. If they are
dissatisfied, they may leave the classroom without looking back. By focusing on what induces strong candidates
into the classroom, what helps teachers
become more effective on the job, and
what sustains them over a career, collective bargaining could play a central role
in assuring teacher quality and retention—and put unions in the enviable
position of providing their new members the support they desperately need.
(References on page 45)
AMERICAN FEDERATION OF TEACHERS 17
(Continued from page 15)
equipped her school was, particularly compared to the suburban school where she had done substitute teaching. She recalled a time when there was no paper available and “the secretary was taking out her secret stash.” Likewise, Bernie said it
was “just ridiculous” that he was allotted three reams of paper
per quarter. With no classroom of his own, Bernie had to rely
on photocopied handouts rather than blackboards in order to
convey important information to students. Three reams of
paper didn’t last long: “I go through that probably in … a week
and a half, two weeks.” He said only somewhat wryly, “Some
of the most useful tips I’ve gotten from veteran teachers have to
do with font size and making sure I copy on both sides of
paper….” Bernie, like many others, complained that the photocopiers in his school never worked. He observed, “In the
business world, they would have a photocopy center where you
could either do it yourself, or have somebody on staff [do it].”
Those who thought that their
school’s lack of support interfered
with successful teaching often moved
on—either to another school
or another career.
A
Problems with Student Behavior
There is no more immediate and worrisome challenge for new
teachers than establishing and maintaining order in their
classroom. Some new teachers worked in schools that deliberately focused everyone’s efforts on instruction and systematically discouraged disruption and distraction; they supported
instruction respectfully with a calm and purposeful environment. Far more often, however, teachers talked about coping
on their own, without the benefit of a schoolwide approach to
discipline that was endorsed and upheld by teachers and administrators alike. Many teachers complained about school
administrators who failed to follow through on discipline.
Often, new teachers reported being reluctant to ask for help
from school administrators, believing that their requests
would evoke disapproval. For example, Bernie was not confident he could rely on administrators for support: “I’m not
sure that they back people up. I’ve heard stories that have
made me really nervous about teachers being called to the mat
… for something as simple as removing a kid from the classroom because they’re disruptive.”
At the elementary level, teachers were even less likely to
have coordinated planning or grade-level meeting time.
Keisha, who worked in a school where 83 percent of the students were below grade level in reading, wished that there were
opportunities to observe other teachers in their classrooms,
“but we don’t have that type of release time. Our [paraprofessionals] are hung up doing whatever. We can’t get subs.” However, Victoria said that in her suburban school, time was reserved for weekly grade-level meetings to “just go over what’s
happening.”
Problems with Scheduling Time to Collaborate
How their time was scheduled was very important to the new
teachers, particularly whether their preparation periods—usually one per day—were coordinated with those of other teachers
who taught the same subject or students. New teachers praised
schools that deliberately arranged their schedules so that they
could plan classes or review students’ progress together.
Secondary schools that featured project-based learning, interdisciplinary classes, or team-based instruction often
arranged time for teachers to collaborate. But in more traditional secondary schools, preparation periods often seemed
haphazardly assigned, more likely the byproduct of a computerized scheduling program than the result of deliberate planning. Bernie was dismayed that teachers—particularly new
ones—did not have the benefit of their peers’ knowledge and
advice. He thought that the teachers in his school would have
worked more closely together if their assignments had made
that possible.
Problems with Professional Growth Opportunities
Focused though they were on developing classroom competence, the new teachers nonetheless continued to assess what a
career in teaching could offer them over time. Many of these
teachers hoped to eventually take on a new role that would
allow them to continue, at least part-time, as classroom teachers. They did not want to exit the classroom entirely and become a principal or district administrator, but they also did
not want to be confined to the classroom. They believed that a
hybrid role might combat boredom and burnout while offering new challenges and rewards that would keep them engaged
in teaching over the long term.
Some new teachers liked the professional advancement inherent in a career ladder. As novices, they saw that such positions could offer a formal conduit through which experts
could pass on teaching expertise—and they looked forward to
taking on roles as expert teachers in the future. Mary, who had
done crisis work with adults for six years before becoming a
18 AMERICAN EDUCATOR
teacher, explained, “My sense is that there are a lot of people
coming in and then leaving, with very little connection between the new people and the experienced people. Then you
get experienced people ... who want to share their experience,
but don’t really know how.... There would be a value in passing
along their experience and knowledge.” Without such roles,
Mary said, “I don’t think people will stay.”
Despite considerable interest in differentiated roles, with the
exception of the well-established position of department head,
few could point to examples of the kind of role they had in
mind. One new teacher bemoaned this situation: “You’re either a teacher or you’re a coach or you’re a principal, and I
don’t like that idea at all.”
SUMMER 2006
ll new teachers believed that schools could either facilitate or impede good teaching. When the basics like
supplies and a schoolwide discipline plan were combined with an administration that offered useful feedback and
scheduled time for teachers to collaborate, new teachers were
very likely to stay in their schools. Unfortunately, such schools
were not the norm. Nonetheless, even when the new teachers
were only reasonably hopeful that they could become effective
with their students, they were still likely to stay. However,
those who thought that their school’s lack of support interfered with successful teaching often moved on—either to another school or another career. The table below provides the
bare facts on the numbers of new teachers who stayed,
switched schools, or left teaching after the first year of our
study and after the fourth year. The new teachers are broken
down by first-career vs. midcareer entrants to highlight one interesting trend: Midcareer entrants were more likely to switch
schools right away. Since they had already changed jobs at least
once when they entered teaching, they knew that work sites
could vary tremendously. They did not regard the problems
they encountered as inevitable, so they quickly looked for a
place where they could give teaching another chance.
Esther did just that.
Who Stayed? Who Moved? Who Left?
First-career vs. Midcareer Entrants after the First Year of Our Study
and after the Fourth Year
After 1 year
After 4 years
First-Career Midcareer First-Career Midcareer
Entrants
Entrants
Entrants
Entrants
Stayed in the school
where they started
21
13
8
9
Moved to another
school
1
7
8
8
Left public school
teaching
4
4
10
7
Esther Struggles—and Moves On
Esther, a MSBP participant and former engineer, was dropped
into teaching math at an urban vocational high school with
virtually no explanation or advice. She summarized the guidSUMMER 2006
ance she had: “Here are your keys, here’s your room, good
luck.” Entering a complex vocational school with only summer
preservice training behind her, Esther was bewildered and
overwhelmed. A sudden and solo entry not only stymies new
teachers, it shortchanges students. Success in a new assignment
requires much more than having a set of keys and knowing
where the classroom is.
During the first two weeks, Esther thought about quitting
every day. She could not figure out how to get her students to
listen to her. In December of that first year, she reported,
“They won’t sit still; their rudeness; their total disrespect for
each other, for the teacher, their language, everything. They
can’t speak to you; they only yell ... I have never seen anything
like it.”
Esther received little help in reaching students from the
teachers and administrators in her school. She said her ineffectual principal—whom her colleagues openly mocked in the
teachers’ room—did not seem to like her, and other teachers
kept their doors closed before and after school. Aside from another new teacher with whom she shared ideas and one veteran
who offered informal advice when they saw each other during
hall duty, she felt she was on her own in learning to reach her
students.
Esther was assigned a mentor, but she was a special education teacher who knew little about the math that Esther was
teaching: “I’ve spoken to this lady twice, maybe for five minutes.... She’s very nice and stuff, but she kind of goes by and
kind of gives me a worried look [and says], ‘How’s it going?’ I
say, ‘OK.’ And then, that’s it.” But Esther had hoped for curricular and instructional support from someone who knew
how to teach math. One person she logically looked to for
help was the math department head. However, the department
head explained that she could not step in as Esther’s mentor
because she was responsible for evaluating her, and she could
only observe her class for the purpose of formal review. Learning to teach was hard enough; learning to teach on her own,
with students whose disengagement and behavior so surprised
her, was overwhelming.
Feeling exhausted and defeated in the spring of her first
year, she decided to look elsewhere for work. “It was too hard
emotionally. There was nothing I could do…. I think I would
have tried it another year because there were kids there that
were very nice, but the administration was not … supportive.”
Esther found a job teaching math at a more affluent high
school near her home in the suburbs. As she left the vocational
high school she was surprised and touched by the students’ reactions. “It was funny. When I quit the last day of school last
year … when I told the kids I wasn’t coming back, they said,
‘Why are you leaving us? What did we do to you?’ I am thinking, ‘What did you do to me? What did you call me?’”
At her new high school, Esther found supportive colleagues
and administrators. She recalled, “I had a director who … said
‘What can I do for you? Come to me with your questions.’”
Moreover, Esther benefited from her department’s deliberate
introduction to the math curriculum: “At the beginning of the
year, we sat down, and they told us what chapters to teach.
You know, ‘This is what we do. This is the order we do it.’”
AMERICAN FEDERATION OF TEACHERS 19
She also achieved a much greater sense of success. She recalled
that at the end of the year at her new school, “I had several
students say ‘You have to keep teaching. You did a good job.’”
The positive feedback heartened her—reaching students was a
key reason she had switched careers in the first place.
Esther regarded her decision to leave her urban vocational
school with some regret, wishing she had found a way to succeed with her students there. But her decision is not unusual.
Recent work by researchers studying teacher turnover in Texas
and New York (Hanushek, Kain, and Rivkin, 2001; Lankford,
Loeb, and Wyckoff, 2002) reveals that teachers consistently
move to schools with “higher achieving, non-minority, nonlow-income students” (Hanushek et al., 2001, p.12). In fact,
large, urban schools that serve low-income students have
nearly twice the annual teacher turnover as large, suburban
schools that serve fewer low-income students (19 percent versus 11 percent) (Ingersoll, 2006).
Why? Working conditions are key. Recently, a survey of
3,336 teachers in California, Wisconsin, and New York was
conducted to learn how working conditions differed in lowincome versus affluent communities (Carroll, Fulton, Abercrombie, and Yoon, 2004). Researchers found that schools
serving large numbers of low-income students and children of
color were reported to have a much higher incidence of inadequate physical facilities than other schools; evidence of vermin
(cockroaches, mice, and rats) in the school buildings; dirty,
closed, or inoperative student bathrooms; inadequate textbooks and materials for students to use in class or to take
home; inadequate computers and limited Internet access;
inadequate science equipment and materials; and higher personal expenditures by teachers to compensate for insufficient
classroom materials and supplies.
Another reason why teachers move to more affluent schools
is that learning to teach is difficult, complex work. New teach-
Fred Plans to Stay “Forever”
F
red began his teaching career at a
small, urban secondary school. He
was deeply committed to his students’
success and to the continuing development of his school. When we first met
Fred, his school included grades seven,
eight, and nine, and school leaders
planned to add one grade every year
through grade 12. Though it is a
neighborhood public school, drawing
its students from the low-income community that immediately surrounds it,
it is also a professional development
school, the result of a unique partnership between a local university and the
city school district. The faculty includes both highly experienced teachers
and newer teachers. Most of the newer
teachers have traditional teacher preparation, master’s degrees, and internship
experience at the school.
To Fred, his school is about high expectations, collaboration, and ongoing
teacher learning, all in the service of
high student achievement. As he explained, “the expectations are so clear
... we’re gearing these kids to college,
that that’s our ultimate goal: to get the
kids ready for college.” The expectations are high for student and teacher
performance, but neither is left alone
to achieve the mission.
Given that these students had varying levels of academic skills and prima-
20 AMERICAN EDUCATOR
rily came from low-income neighborhoods, every aspect of the school had
to focus on academic success—even
the approach to managing student behavior. Both the faculty and the administration, Fred said, “treat every
problem, no matter how minute, as a
significant disciplinary issue. And because of that, we don’t have the typical
problems that other schools do. I
mean, problems that other schools
would laugh at in terms of discipline
are dealt with pretty harshly here. But I
think that has created an atmosphere
that is conducive to good discipline.”
In the school’s three-year history, there
had been no fights among students.
“And that’s pretty remarkable when
you think that it’s seventh-, eighth-,
and ninth-graders.” He credited the
principal with setting the standard:
“Things are dealt with immediately by
the principal. She’s got a good relationship with the kids. They know not to
disappoint her.”
But the principal wasn’t just the disciplinarian. She founded the professional development school and was
deeply involved in making it work.
Fred said, “She’s an innovator. She’s an
example…. She’s constantly looking
for new ideas and new ways of solving
old problems, which is unique.... No
problem is too large [for her] and …
you don’t have to guess where she
stands on the issues.” But at the same
time, “She’s very good at telling us
what kind of job we do and how she
appreciates it.... She’s willing to put her
confidence in the hands of the professionals that are teachers here.” He explained, “That type of freedom and
confidence creates a good feeling
amongst the faculty.”
According to Fred, the fact that the
faculty included a mix of new and experienced teachers “promotes the best
type of situation for faculty.” He described the interaction among novice
and veteran teachers this way: “So we
have a nice blend of veteran teachers
who have been in the system for a long
time and know the art of teaching.
Then we also have a nice core of ...
young teachers like myself with less
than five years of teaching experience.
And that creates a really good atmosphere. So I think the young teachers
learn from the veteran teachers. And I
think the veteran teachers get sparked a
little bit from the young teachers coming in, you know, a new, fresh attitude.
So it’s mutually enriching in that
sense.”
It is important to note that there is
nothing inherently beneficial about
simply having a mix of novices and veterans within the same school. What is
SUMMER 2006
ers need support and guidance in order to achieve success. But
we have found that support is often hardest to come by in lowincome urban and rural schools, which very often have few institutional resources and low levels of student achievement.
Our work shows that more affluent schools tend to provide
more support to help new teachers succeed.
III. Support Breeds Success and Stability
When we examined teachers’ reasons for staying in their
school, transferring to another school, or leaving public school
teaching entirely, we realized there were three distinct kinds of
schools—and only one of them was doing a good job supporting, and holding on to, new teachers. The key was in the
schools’ professional culture. The first kind of school had a mix
of veterans and novices, but teachers worked in isolation instead of learning from one another. The second kind had a
teaching staff comprised almost entirely of novices who were
exceptional at Fred’s school is that
teachers of varying experience levels interact regularly, both formally and informally. Fred described a typical situation: “If I have a question or if I had
something happen in class that perplexed me that I didn’t know how to
deal with, then I go down to [Sue] or
[Tom] and say, ‘I’m having trouble,
how do I deal with this?’”
Fred said the school’s culture emphasizes “teachers as learners,” and it is expected that teachers will learn when
they work together. The teachers had
90 minutes four times each week for
preparation and collaborative work.
Learning to teach is an ongoing
process; a teacher masters the art by
practicing, over time. Thus, administrators and teacher leaders at Fred’s
school realized that it serves their
school well to recognize that new
teachers grow in skill and expertise
day-to-day and year-to-year: “There’s
an expectation that you would mature
as a teacher and develop new strategies
in various arenas that you may not
have had in your bag of tricks to begin
with.”
Fred also explained that his fellow
teachers feel and act as if they are collectively responsible for the school, the
students, and each other: “We’re all in
the same game here together.” He explained that he believed it is his “responsibility, as it is everybody else’s, to
share in the burden” of achieving the
SUMMER 2006
bound by their enthusiasm, but lacking skill. The third kind
had veterans and novices who were encouraged to work together, sharing expertise and fresh ideas. In our sample of 50
new Massachusetts teachers, 17 began their careers in schools
that fostered such collaborations—and 82 percent of them
stayed in those schools after the first year of our study. In contrast, just 57 percent of the 21 teachers who began their careers
in schools where teachers worked in isolation stayed, as did just
67 percent of the 12 who began in schools filled with novices.
Just what does a school where teachers collaborate look like?
Fred’s experience, described in the sidebar (p. 20), provides an
excellent example.
N
ew teachers yearn for professional colleagues who can
help them acclimate to their school’s unique culture,
help them solve the complicated, daily dilemmas of
(Continued on page 45)
The faculty and the
administration, Fred
said, “treat every
problem, no matter
how minute, as a
significant disciplinary
issue. And because of
that, we don’t have the
typical problems that
other schools do.”
school’s mission. In speaking of his
duty to all of the students in the school
he said, “I’m not primarily a social
studies teacher here; I’m a teacher here
primarily.”
After just a few years of teaching in
this supportive environment, Fred was
ready to start venturing beyond the traditional role of a classroom teacher. He
became the de facto head of the social
studies department: “The principal has
kind of put me in charge of making
sure that the social studies curriculum
is being covered.” He also supervised
two student teachers, which he especially enjoyed: “It worked great. I love
it. Their ideas keep me fresh. And I
think I lend a little bit of experience to
them. And it’s mutually enriching, you
know.” Fred looked forward to being
able to take on even more in the years
ahead; his school had specialized roles
for master teachers who serve as staff
developers and work with intern teachers. Fred observed that such positions
were “enriching” both for the individuals holding them and for the people
they assisted.
Clearly, those in Fred’s school believe that teachers hold knowledge and
power, and that students are best
served when teachers assist each other
and share responsibility for their students’ learning as well as their own.
Mentoring is organized to benefit both
the novice and the experienced teachers, and the administration ensures that
structures are in place to further facilitate teacher interaction and reinforce
interdependence. Fred said he hoped to
remain in his school “forever.” But he
made it clear that, were it not for his
school, he might have left teaching: “If
I weren’t at this school, I wouldn’t be a
teacher. I really don’t think I would
be.” It was his appreciation for his
school that reinforced his commitment: “I plan on making it a career. So,
20, 30 years.”
—S.M.J.
AMERICAN FEDERATION OF TEACHERS 21
Why New Teachers Stay
(Continued from page 21)
classroom teaching, and guide their ongoing learning. When
the 50 teachers in our study chose teaching, they envisioned
the stimulating classroom they hoped to create and the buzz of
their students engaged in learning. In the ideal, they also
hoped for colleagues and administrators who would be committed to student learning and would help them, as new
teachers, achieve success with their students.
Regardless of the quality or duration of new teacher’s preservice preparation, novice teachers must continue to learn long
after they enter the classroom. They continue to improve their
skills and adjust their strategies for delivering engaging lessons.
They learn about the philosophy of their school and what
administrators, colleagues, and parents expect of them. They
learn about the students, their families, and the community.
They learn to keep order in their classroom, better manage
their time, and differentiate instruction in response to students’ needs. They become better at involving parents more
effectively, fostering student responsibility, and assessing student progress. They learn to create curriculum, integrate technology into their teaching, and better prepare students for
standardized tests. Leaving new teachers on their own to
address these complex and dynamic challenges is both unreasonable and unnecessary, particularly since they are
surrounded by colleagues doing similar work.
By building a career ladder for classroom teachers, schools
can deliver what the new teachers in our study want—both a
supportive work environment while they are new and opportunities to grow once they have more experience. With career
ladders that formalize roles such as mentors, master teachers,
curriculum developers, or professional development planners,
schools can be organized so that novices have a well-integrated
support system with plenty of colleagues to turn to, and veterans have options that will challenge them without removing
them from the classroom completely. Ideally, school districts
and teacher unions will collaborate to create these career ladders and help schools become supportive workplaces that
foster new teachers’ success. Our study demonstrated that such
schools—schools like Fred’s—have dramatically less attrition
among new teachers. That’s good for the schools’ bottom line
l
and great for students’ academic achievement.
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Sidebar References
From page 16
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From page 17
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AMERICAN FEDERATION OF TEACHERS 45